


No Good for Heroes

by JessicaPendragon



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 14:47:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3732865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessicaPendragon/pseuds/JessicaPendragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Varric helps the Inquisitor after she celebrates dragon slaying a little too hard.  Prompt Fill, Quote: "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn."</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Good for Heroes

Varric is a master of words, but tonight they seem to be having their way with him instead. His hand has started to ache from holding the quill for so long. The empty paper mocks him with every unblemished square, the tight weave unwilling to unravel even a word for him.

He sighs and relinquishes his weapon, defeated. It hasn’t been easy since Adamant. Every word he penned to Bethany was seeped in parts of himself, the paper soaked and heavy like each letter weighed as much as his guilt.

Varric pushes away from the table as a raucous voice echoes through the open doors of the main hall.

“No man can beat the Chargers!” Ellana stumbles across the stones and follows a teetering path towards his table. “Cause we’ll hit you…s’where hurts. Unless you know a tavern with cards and…and-”

She collapses into the opposite seat and looks at him with eyes bright and unfocused. “Varric!”

He can’t help but return her wide smile with one of his own. “Having a nice night, Inquisitor?”

Ellana drops her head back on the table and lifts arms into the air. “We slayed our first dragon and it was huge! Bull and Cassandra were amazing, and scary. And Vivienne with her glowy sword! She’s so strong, I hope I can be like her one day. We’ve all been at the tavern celebrating. Bull made me drink this… _stuff._ ”

“Madame de Fer graced the tavern with her presence?” What he wouldn’t give to see _that._

The Inquisitor rolls her eyes and stands on shaky legs. “No. I begged her too, because we are dragon slayers and dragon slayers should do _something_. But she just said ‘Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn’.”

Varric laughs at her impression. “I don’t think Lady Vivienne would dare be so vulgar, but I get the idea.”

“I-Oompf!” Ellana tries to reach for the table again and misses, stumbling back into the bench and almost smashing her chin against the wood’s hard surface.

“Whoa there, Inquisitor!” Varric moves around the space and gently places a steadying arm on hers.

“Will you help me to my rooms, please?”

“Maybe I should go get Curly-”

“No!” She grips on tight to his open shirt, eyes wide and pleading. “He…he can’t see me like this. Please?”

“All right, all right. Put those doe eyes away before you hurt someone.”

It takes a concentrated effort to guide her up to the Inquisitor’s tower, and for one heart skipping moment she almost teeters over the railing and his life flashes before his eyes. Varric helps her to the bed and chuckles when she falls face first into it with a grateful sigh.

“Sleep well. I don’t envy the morning you’re going to have,” he says.

He is halfway to the steps when he hears her voice again. “I’ve tried to find her.”

“What was that?” he asks, although he knows, he _knows_ what she’s saying and every smart part of him is begging him to end this story short.

“Hawke…I’ve looked for her in the Fade, tried to open that rift again. But..but I can’t figure it out and I can only hear echoes in my dreams. I’m not strong enough or smart enough and I’m so sorry-”

“Hey, don’t think like that. It wasn’t your fault.”

She pauses and he holds onto the banister as if it’s the main mast of Isabela’s ship and the only thing keeping him from being swept away by a storm. “Can you ever forgive me?”

“Yeah, of course. I mean I already have. You don’t have to-” He stops when he hears a little snore from the bed and shakes his head. “Goodnight, Inquisitor.”

His anger towards her lasted a few fleeting moments as he stormed away from the courtyard at Adamant. Varric knows she’d pull the mark out of her hand and shrug off the mantle of Herald in a second if she could, knows she’s just another victim of an author’s stained fingers.

There’s only one person who deserves the blame for Hawke and Varric doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to forgive him. He’s never been very good at writing his own story.


End file.
